


only on camera

by waveandwhisper



Series: bangtan intimacy series 2k16 [3]
Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Casual Sex, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Polyamory, Porn with Feelings, Questioning, Threesome - M/M/M, it's chill though, jimin's like kinda down but also very confused about what's happening
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-13 20:21:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9140755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waveandwhisper/pseuds/waveandwhisper
Summary: +that's why I'm calling on you+jungkook and seokjin show jimin that some things are better in threes (feat. jungkook's camera)





	

**Author's Note:**

> bib2016  
> bingo square: mutual masturbation

Jimin roused from sleep to find a glossy black lens the size of his fist staring at him. “You really don't quit, do you,” he muttered. The splashes of light behind his previously closed eyelids had not just been part of an elaborate — and weird — dream. Jimin’s brow sank into an distressed pinch and a groan tore from the back of his mouth as he wrestled further into the covers. “No flash photography.” He hoped that even muffled into his pillow, his voice still had some bite.  
  
The mattress shifted under what Jimin knew was Jungkook’s weight at the foot of the bed. His eyes again fastened tightly, now in false slumber, Jimin braced himself for whatever Jungkook was plotting. The sheets were moving down and away from his body and Jimin immediately missed the warmth. “I guess you look okay in natural light, too. Ruins the whole feel of the shoot though.”  
  
Jimin shifted from laying in his stomach to resting on one side, turned his head so half his face showed and opened one eye. “What's your concept, Mr. Director?”  
  
The shutter click, click, clicked, no flash this time. “Candid. So quit acting cute, you're fucking up my shot.” _Click._ Jungkook straddled the top of Jimin’s thigh. He placed one hand on Jimin’s shoulder and pushed so his back was firmly on the bed, bare face and chest exposed. Jimin complied with a yawn. _Click, click._  
  
“Hey! Did you get me with my mouth open?” Jungkook snickered behind his camera, dodging Jimin’s tired swats. “Gimme that camera; I mean it.”  
  
Seokjin’s voice echoed from another room. “Morning, Jimin!”  
  
“Delete that. Please.” Jimin grabbed at the hem of Jungkook’s t-shirt, hands too small comparative to the fingers prying them off.  
  
“Why? I'm getting some great stuff. Now sit up for me.” Jungkook waited for Jimin’s limbs to pull him further up the bed into a lazy splay with his back to the headboard. “Be natural.”  
  
Jimin dragged his knees up to his chest. “It's weird if you're staring at me.” Jungkook’s unwavering expression drew a shiver from Jimin like cool fingertips down his back. His eyes were dark as the lens he cradled in his palm, and even more knowing. “At least wait til I'm not all puffy and gross.”  
  
“You're fine now.” Jungkook put the camera down on the bed behind himself and crawled forward. “You're better this way.” He drew in close and pressed his lips to Jimin’s waiting mouth, the scent of freshly washed cotton and sweetness wafting between them.  
  
“Mm, you smell like a flower or something.” Jimin murmured the words between their lips.  
  
Jungkook ran his fingers through Jimin’s dark brown bangs and sighed. “Jin keeps putting those damn freshener things in my laundry.”  
  
“Bet you love it. You smell pretty.” To prove it, Jimin buried his face in the crook of Jungkook’s neck and took a deep breath, encouraged by the giggles above him. He pecks the corner of Jungkook’s lips, his cheek, his ear, mouths at his jawline, his neck, all the while Jungkook whispering for him to _wait, hold on, oh my god._ Jimin moved Jungkook to switch places and sit so he could settle on his knees between Jungkook’s parted thighs. Jungkook smoothed his hands up and down Jimin’s arms with a steady rhythm, squeezing his shoulders and repeating. Jimin fell into vague consciousness of the hair on his own forearms, wondered if Jungkook could feel the new softness in his biceps after skipping workouts for a few weeks. His only coherent thoughts, though, were _warm_ , _more_ , _closer_. Jimin felt lethargy tugging his eyes closed like a flower’s petals at twilight. Fingers stroked his hair and he curled into the heat of Jungkook’s hand on his cheek, a low hum rumbling in his chest.

 

“This is you, huh?” Jimin opened his eyes again. He could almost hear the moving parts in Jungkook’s brain flickering and scraping and grinding as their eyes locked. Jungkook tilted Jimin’s chin slightly higher, and Jimin felt the warmth of the nearing-noon sun, muted by translucent curtains, across his face. He had to squint a little to escape the blinding light, but he faintly registered the curl of Jungkook’s brow, discerning as always. “You've never stayed til morning before. I don't know why not.”

 

  
  
_Click._

  
  
“What wa— hey!” Jimin craned his neck over Jungkook’s shoulder to see Seokjin standing near the bed, camera poised in front of himself. Seokjin laughed in high, squeaky hiccups, his broad shoulders shaking with mirth.  
  
Jungkook caught either side of Jimin’s face between soft palms before he could attempt to plant his face back into his pillow. “Where ya goin’?” He kissed the center of Jimin’s forehead, then the tip of his nose, and watched rosy pink blossom on his cheeks.  
  
Jimin pouted. “You guys are always making fun of me.” He nudged Jungkook's shoulder without much strength and freed himself from his hold. “Jerks.”  
  
“You think you’ll get breakfast with that attitude?” Seokjin squeezed the shell of Jimin's ear between his thumb and forefinger, ignoring his irritated yelp. He left the camera on the nightstand, climbed onto the bed and grabbed Jimin around the waist, pulling him away from Jungkook and into his own lap. “Huh? What’re you gonna say now?”  
  
“Jin, please!”  
  
Seokjin held him tighter, laughing. “Say mercy!”  
  
“No! Let me go!”  
  
“Say mercy!”  
  
And Jungkook egged them on, shaking the mattress with his laughter and counting down like a referee while Jimin floundered in Seokjin’s strong arms.  
  
“Do you give up?”  
  
Jimin’s limbs had grown lax, all the fight taken out of him with ease. That and he looked quite comfortable with Seokjin holding him now, his breathing steadying and blush fading. “I... I’m done. You win.”  
  
“I’m stronger than you, right?”  
  
“... Alright.”  
  
“And you’ll be a good boy from now on, right?”  
  
“Don't push it.” The words seethed between gritted teeth as he pinched Seokjin’s thigh. He smiled at the cry of pain that followed.  
  
Jungkook sighed. “I swear I'm the oldest.” He grimaced as Jimin snuggled closer to Seokjin, the two sharing wide-mouthed laughter.  
  
“If you're the adult, then why do you make me buy you superhero underwear?” Seokjin hooked two fingers in the band of Jungkook’s grey boxers and let go so the elastic snapped pale skin.  
  
“Ah!” Jungkook’s hand flew to the afflicted spot on his hip and lowered his voice to a mutter. “I don't _make_ you. Just when you happen to see some, that's all.”  
  
Seokjin stroked Jimin’s hair, who preened under his hand, and smiled cheekily at Jungkook. “You’re cute in them. And out of them too.”  
  
“Yeah, yeah. Why don't you just take a picture?” Jungkook smirked and moved in to nip Jin’s bottom lip.  
  
“Don't need it; I still have the ones you sent me.”  
  
Jimin crawled out from under Jungkook’s body and poked his side. “You two sext?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook breathed into Seokjin’s mouth, “it’s kinda hot.” Seokjin pulled him closer, bordering on too rough. Warm hands slid beneath Jungkook’s shirt, suggesting it off, and Jungkook whipped it over his head and away. “Fuck, please.”  
  
“I just might.” Seokjin grinned. “You should show Jimin my favorite video.” He turned his focus to Jimin, leaving himself vulnerable to Jungkook’s scalding kisses along his throat. “He was so worked up. You would have—you’d have loved it.” Seokjin grabbed the back of Jungkook’s head and hissed as if he’d been burned. “Sh-show him.”  
  
Jungkook pulled away from Seokjin with a wet little smack, the reddened mark on his prominent collarbone screaming exactly where Jungkook had been. Jimin watched Jungkook swim through rustled sheets to the middle of the bed and sit cross legged. One arm propped up his weight as he eased his free hand into the front of his boxers.  
  
Jimin half-expected one of Jungkook's sharp grins, followed by a teasing laugh at Jimin’s no-doubt glassy, dazed eyes and slacked jaw. But Jungkook didn’t even glance up from his lap. Last night’s eyeliner had faded into charcoal-greyish rings hugging downcast eyes. His tongue lay carefully tucked in the corner of his mouth.  
  
Jungkook stroked himself with a firm grip, gasping a little every time he reached the wet head of his dick. The subtle twitching in his knuckles betrayed his impatience. He'd speed up some, presumably to let off some pressure, and then still his hand, and his whole body would tense until he remembered to breathe and start again.  
  
“Jungkook,” Jimin breathed. Jungkook whined in return. He wrapped his fingers around the base of his dick and squeezed. His eyebrows wrinkled with the effort of barely keeping himself composed under Jimin and Seokjin’s watchful eyes. It was almost noble. “You don’t have to—let me help.”  
  
“No, it’s… you wanna see me, right?” Of course Jimin wanted to watch. Jungkook usually had control, a quiet sort of power that charmed anything breathing within a 100-mile radius. But now, with thick legs flexed and chest heaving and eyes wide, Jungkook showed everything to which Jimin wasn’t usually privy: his fluttering, full lashes; cheeks thrilled with pink; the hitch in his breath poorly masked by teeth sunken into his lower lip, mercy. Jungkook was finally going to undo himself, stitch by vulnerable stitch. Jimin wasn't sure he'd make it out in one piece either.

 

“Now imagine getting this exact visual during your lunch break when you can’t even come home.” Seokjin laughed. “He’s unbelievable.” He rested his chin in the crook of Jimin’s neck and reached for the front of Jimin’s sweats, swatting his hand away from where it was moving in light circles. Seokjin undid the drawstring and snuck them down Jimin's hips. “But I guess he just wants the attention. Isn’t that right?” His warm breath against Jimin’s jaw sent electricity down his back.    
  
Jungkook just hummed in response, his eyes dissolving into pure haze. He licked the center of his palm and returned to position, stroking himself a little faster. He slid his hand along his chest, fingers tweaking his nipple. Jimin didn't miss the slight jolt of Jungkook’s hips at that moment, and he had half a mind to reach over and see just how sensitive Jungkook could be. The other half of his mind was focused on not coming in Seokjin’s hand, which was working around his dick in earnest, so he stayed in place and leaned into the solid chest behind him.  
  
“You wanna come, baby?”  
  
Jimin shook his hair from his eyes. “Yeah.”  
  
Seokjin laughed. “Already? I was talking to Kookie. But if you can't wait…”  
  
“No. Never mind.” Jimin’s cheeks burned.  
  
Seokjin had already caught a case of the giggles, which vibrated against Jimin’s throat as he continued to suck a pale pink stain flush against his jawline. “Cute. Let me see you.” He patted Jimin’s thigh, prompting him to lift up so they could kneel on the mattress and face each other. Seokjin pulled their bodies together and Jimin could feel him hard against his hip. Jimin lifted his head and Seokjin was there, their mouths meeting in almost-perfect sync, and Jimin could tell from Jungkook’s whining that he probably wanted to be kissed too. He nipped Seokjin’s bottom lip, tugged a little and let go, pecking the reddening spot. Seokjin’s hands moved from their grip on Jimin’s back around to his trembling stomach and down between them.  
  
Jimin moaned so loud that he had to bite Seokjin’s shoulder to keep quiet, ears burning with the sound of Jungkook’s laughter. He could feel his strength sliding from his legs and sinking into a puddle of lost restraint that pooled beneath quaking knees. Jimin wrapped his arms around Seokjin’s broad back for support, unable to stop from forming shallow grooves in the soft skin grasped beneath his blunt fingernails.  
  
Seokjin had two hands around the both of them, slicked only with some spit and precum and it wasn’t exceedingly comfortable but it was certainly getting the job done. “You’re driving me crazy.”

 

Jimin could have said the same if he could think straight. “Kiss me.” Seokjin replied with a short press of his lips to Jimin’s, startling in its tenderness. He brought their foreheads together and held Jimin in place by the nape of his neck.

 

“Close?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Mm… m-me too.”

 

Jimin felt his bones getting heavier, his patience swaying in the storm. Jungkook’s heavy pants and grunts were getting harder to ignore, as if he were right beside him. He watching closely, Jimin knew. Seokjin was everywhere on him and Jimin’s vision started to fuzz on the edges. “I’m gonna— Jin, slow down—” Seokjin grinned and slowed his hands, tightened his grip. “Ah, fuck!” Jimin hid his face in Seokjin’s chest as warmth spread between their bodies. Seokjin continued to stroke him through it until Jimin had to push his hands away.

 

“Good?”

 

Jimin pressed his lips to warm skin. “Good.” He sat down and let his head loll back, eyes sinking into the tiny cracks in the cream-painted ceiling that ran and faded to nothingness every time his gaze followed further, like veins burrowing under smooth skin’s cloak. His breathing settled a bit.

Seokjin crawled over to Jungkook, whose hands were clenching the sheets on either side of his lap and probably had been for a while. He looked so gone. “You want me t-”

 

“Touch me. You too,” Jungkook said with Jimin in his line of sight. Seokjin climbed on top of him and guided him into a slow, half-uncoordinated kiss. They were like teenagers, the two of them wanting each other so purely. Jimin could see the slim glow of sweat above Seokjin’s tensed brow. Jungkook drank him down, took his fill, and if his legs didn't already weigh the same as two bags of bricks, Jimin would have wished to be in Jungkook's place.

  
This thing they’d started, this sexual roulette of my place or his place or yours they’d been working for the past few weeks (had it already been weeks?), made Jimin question all the preferences he thought he'd never change. Jimin had an affinity for fucking with the lights off, for never saying a word between the beginning and end, for lying when he said he’d “call you later.” It was easier that way. But Seokjin and Jungkook made him come back for more, made him compromise, and it was getting increasingly difficult to say sex was the only thing on his mind when they were together.

 

Jimin made his way over, saw Jungkook’s smiling eyes as he trapped Seokjin between his legs. “Come on,” he panted over Seokjin’s shoulder. Jimin reached his arm out, but retracted his hand in an instant. “What?” Jimin went back for Jungkook’s camera, fiddling with the buttons until he could see miniatures of Seokjin and Jungkook’s likenesses in the viewfinder.

 

Seokjin looked over his shoulder and giggled before refocusing on Jungkook, grinding down into the bucking hips below him.

 

“Let me take a pic of you instead?” Jungkook nodded his consent as Seokjin moved to tease Jungkook’s nipple with his teeth and twist the other between his thumb and index finger. A high gasp followed by desperate, strained moans almost had Jimin wanting to come again.

 

“Guys, let me — fuck—” Jungkook’s eyebrow was shivering and his chest quaked with unsteady breaths. Jimin steadied the camera in his hands, ignoring the more unfamiliar controls in favor of letting his finger hover over the shutter button in anticipation. “Gonna pay… for not helping me… helping me get off, Mini.” Seokjin kept his mouth latched to Jungkook’s chest and trailed one finger down the center of his body, going until the pad of his finger was sweeping the leaking slit of Jungkook’s dick, eliciting a full-body tremor.

 

Jimin finally started to take some snaps. “Starting to see why you like this.” He wasn't even sure the others heard him. "Give me a good pose."

 

Jungkook's back arched as Seokjin stroked him off faster than before, with Jungkook helping him in return. Jungkook came in his hand and onto his own stomach and Seokjin followed soon after. Jimin captured it all. 

 

 "Well," Jungkook panted, "how'd I look?"

 

"Alright," Jimin lied. He was amazing. Even in the blurry ones because, shit, it isn't even his camera to begin with, he didn't know how to use it. 

 

"We have to keep doing this," Seokjin said from his place spread out on the bed. He looked a lot more affected now then he tried to show before. "Jimin, I think you left your keys in front by the door, don't forget them."

 

Jimin looked down at the camera again, scrolling backwards through the pictures he'd taken, and some of Jungkook's from earlier. "I think I'll hang out for a minute first. If that's okay with you guys."

 

"As long as you want." Jungkook eased next to Jimin and took the camera from his hands. Jimin watched him scroll forward and raised an eyebrow when Jungkook started to laugh. "Oh my god, you got one of Jin with his mouth open." 


End file.
